Master of Oneself
by Kay Willow
Summary: In the future, Kira is the last of his friends who has yet to become a captain. What happened to him? Once upon a time, wasn't he... the BEST? //onesided? Kira/Hinamori//


**.master of oneself.**

**.the wrong question**

It was hard to draw her attention now. In his mind, he said, _Hinamori-kun._ In his heart, he said, _Momo,_ and the audacity of that made him feel alive again.

Out loud, Izuru said softly, "Can I have a word, Captain Hinamori?"

Every time he said her name out loud, his still-hopeful heart withered a little more.

She turned around, her eyes going briefly wide, and then she smiled slightly in that sad way of hers. "Ah! Good evening, Kira-kun. I'm not really doing anything important -- you can talk to me." She set aside her paperwork in demonstration.

Izuru's gaze lingered on the pile. He had done paperwork just like that, for months on end, doing all the work for his entire division humbly, accepting it as a fitting consequence of what he had done, and he had asked for nothing in return. And he had gotten nothing in return.

"I just wanted to ask you a... a personal question. You don't have to answer it," he hurried to assure her. "But I'm not... making any progress, so..."

She sighed, brown eyes rolling up. "Kira-kun, _honestly_, I said you can talk so you can _talk_." Her voice was exasperated, almost complaining playfully, but in her face was concern and interest. That openness, that selfless compassion, made him ache with the longing to tell her everything, rest his head on her lap as if she could chase away all the things that bothered him. Maybe she could, if only...

How long had he held on to 'if only', though? If only he weren't such a coward, he might be asking the right question at this very moment.

Izuru stepped up beside her, daring to fold himself down to the cushion across from her at the low table. He wet his lips, and was briefly glad that lieutenants weren't allowed to carry zanpakutou within the court.

"I wanted to know how you achieved your bankai."

She was still, hands coiled in her lap and hesitant. Izuru took this excuse to look at her, really look at her: she was still small, but her sleeveless captain's haori suited her slim figure, made her look... more than just a girl, like a confident authority figure. This was the figure that the 5th division looked up to, that many people admired and sought, Izuru not the least of them -- but perhaps he had been the first.

It was dizzying to think that only a few decades ago, they had been in the same class.

"Is it too much?" Izuru murmured, trying to think of another topic to defuse the awkwardness.

But she shook her head and smiled a little. "No, it's okay. I've spoken about it before. I guess I was just... surprised." More open, she asked him, "Are you trying to master bankai, Kira-kun?"

Izuru returned her smile as best he could. "Yes. I've been able to materialize for years, but..." He hesitated, trying to find a way to express himself without giving away the root of his problem. "I guess I've been stuck on the rest of it."

He hadn't said anything, but Hinamori seemed to understand. "Ahh. Well, materialization is the easy part, I always thought."

Suddenly she pushed herself to her feet, and put her hands on her hips. "Let's take a walk! And I'll tell you about what it was like for me. It might be different for you, but..."

"I think it would help," Izuru assured her, thinking, _At the very least it will remind me how far ahead of me you are._ He hoped that would be motivation to try again.

They exited the back doors of the office, stepping out into the walkway. Hinamori wore a small smile, taking in the serene gardens -- they were Aizen's, but she seemed to not even notice, capable of looking out into the little Zen retreat and thinking of pleasant things instead of how it had all gone wrong. Izuru envied her that peace of mind.

Hinamori said softly, "Tobiume is a phoenix. Did I ever tell you that?"

Izuru frowned. "Once, I think-- when we were in the academy." Early on, and excited by their first contact: she had said that Tobiume took the form of a phoenix, and he had said that Wabisuke looked human, and Renji had said that he had no idea _what_ the hell Zabimaru was supposed to be.

"She's very beautiful -- not brightly colored, but so tall and proud, and her wings and crest are obscured in flame." Hinamori sighed, almost fond. "And she has a fanned tail like a fish, like in those statues at the temple."

It wasn't what he'd wanted her to talk about, and it was almost odd to hear her discuss something so deep, so personal, that no one but herself had ever seen it. A shinigami's zanpakutou was a part of him, a foreign creature who saw the deepest reaches of his soul and understood him better than anyone else ever could. But Izuru wouldn't dream of steering her back to the topic when she had that pretty smile on her face, sentimental, the way she had never looked at _him_.

Hinamori said, "Within me, I always see her in a sweet little village, like the one where I grew up. She likes to perch on top of the roofs, and make me come up to join her -- it feels claustrophobic in the streets, she says."

"Well," Izuru admitted, with a little smile of his own, "Tobiume _is_ a bird... mostly."

Hinamori didn't laugh, didn't smile. She said softly, "I felt it too, the first time I went there, after Captain Aizen left. I was choking, I couldn't breathe-- I could see far, far into the distance, but it felt like I was being shut in from all sides. Like I was sealed in a coffin."

They walked in silence for long moments. Izuru couldn't believe how quickly their conversation had turned down this dark path. He cursed himself silently for bringing up the topic that had erased that tender expression, replacing it with such grim words -- _choking, coffin_ -- words that underlined the nightmare they had lived through. He had known that Aizen would probably come up (_Gin_ still came up every time he went to Wabisuke) but he had been so selfish...

She paused at a bench, turned slowly and sat down, then beckoned him to sit next to her. Hurried, Izuru did, sitting at the edge so that he could still be turned to face her.

Hinamori slid Tobiume's sheath from her hip and settled it over her knees. She said, "But on the rooftops, I didn't feel quite so claustrophobic, and I'd been so-- so frightened, I just cried, and babbled on at Tobiume about every fear and frustration that I had. And... at the time, I'm sure I found it terribly cruel that she wouldn't give me the support I couldn't find anywhere else. Tobiume told me that I had been fortunate to have the opportunity to learn from my mistakes -- and now that everyone could see them for what they were, no one would ever trust my judgment again until I _had_ learned from them."

Izuru watched her hands on the pink leather wrapped lovingly around Tobiume's hilt. He murmured, "That seems like such a heartless thing to say after what you'd been through."

"Oh, no!" Hinamori shook her head, and she was smiling again. "I needed to hear it. I needed a reason to _want_ something for myself again."

She had glanced down to smile at Tobiume, and so she missed the flit of horror across Izuru's face.

The young captain added softly, "I argued with her a lot -- and she would goad me into fighting her. By the time I was ready to admit the truth, I was already halfway to learning my bankai."

* * *

**.the right question**

Wabisuke said, _Yes, of course she was. That was the hard part. If I were Tobiume, I would have made her last trial to do battle with the image of her hero._

And she had thought Tobiume was cruel; Izuru snapped, "Don't be ridiculous! Even if it's only an image, forcing Hinamori-kun to fight him would be too much! It would undo all the work of--"

_Don't sell the girl short, Izuru. She's stronger than you._

That hit him like a blow. Izuru ducked his head, swallowing hard. He hated this place, the eerie and silent stone statues that lined the stairway, the whispering that sounded like apologies which he almost-heard in the trees around them. He knew that Wabisuke was no more fond of it than he was, but he didn't dare materialize the zanpakutou... not when all of their discussions sounded like this.

_Bankai isn't just something you pick up like a new weapon,_ Wabisuke told him, dark eyes narrowing in disapproval or displeasure or something -- Izuru had never been able to read the slender, dignified figure. _It is a pinnacle of understanding oneself. You need to understand yourself before you can wield such power._

"I do understand myself," Izuru murmured. "All too well."

He was under no pretty lies or self-deceptions. He was a noble by birth but not by nature -- only a coward, and weak, and a fool for even dreaming himself in the same class as Hinamori and Renji, never mind the good, noble captains beyond their level of skill.

_You could have outshone them all, Izuru,_ the zanpakutou told him bitterly.

Izuru's head jerked up, and he insisted, "No, I'm not the kind of person who can become a captain--"

Suddenly the ground shook beneath them; he fell to his knees from the powerful tremor, fingers grasping at the wooden stairs. Statues rattled on their daises and shingles tumbled off the archway to shatter on the steps. Throughout it, Wabisuke stood tall and unwavering, his arms folded over his chest like a chastising parent.

When even the distant rumble had faded, Wabisuke asked calmly, _Do you know what that is, Izuru? That is your lie, shaking the foundations of my home._

"I know," he said softly. "You've told me. Every time I lie..."

_These earthquakes are caused by your shame and your guilt. Lying to me is not only foolish, but futile. You may as well stop._

Izuru shook his head. "So they need more captains like me?" he said bitterly. "Captains who can't keep their division in line, who can't stand up to other people, who would rather take orders than give them?"

There was a silence, and then Wabisuke made a frustrated sound and stepped closer to him. _That's what I am trying to tell you, Izuru! This behavior __**isn't**__ like you. This is what Ichimaru __**made**__ you._

Every time, every single time, it was this. Izuru could barely remember being the man Wabisuke had first met. It was like reuniting with an old friend and being held up to expectations set by someone you weren't anymore, hadn't been for a long time. It was tempting to shove himself to his feet and walk away -- he didn't need to take this, Wabisuke had no right to tell him how to _be_ and how to _act_. It was his life! So tempting to just leave, forget about bankai until Wabisuke was ready to accept him as he was now.

But it would mean forgetting about bankai... maybe forever. In the end, Izuru was the one who needed something from Wabisuke.

"Please help me," Izuru murmured.

_Tell me why I should,_ Wabisuke responded immediately. _Tell me what motivates you. Is it because you aren't happy the way Ichimaru made you?_

Izuru's fingers tightened, but he didn't get up, remained kneeling there like a penitent. Of course he wasn't happy. Who could live the way he did and be happy? But he couldn't make himself say, yes, that's why. It would be another lie, and the forest shrine would break apart, and Wabisuke's knowing stare would burn holes in his skin, sear him until he could almost scream from the pain.

Wabisuke stepped closer, slowly descending the stairs until he was almost at Izuru's level. _When we first met,_ he said, nostalgic, _we talked about bankai. You had the advantage of your friends; proficient at kidou and proficient at swordscraft, you excelled in both fields when she faltered in swordscraft and he faltered in kidou. You used to talk about how you would make captain before Zabimaru's master and dazzle your little bird, sweeping her out from underneath her own captain's nose._

But the words didn't fill Izuru with nostalgia -- rather, with shame. How could he have thought such things about Abarai-kun, now captain of the 3rd division, now his own captain? How could he even look at Hinamori-kun, remembering how he had dreamed of her, back when he'd still imagined that he would be worthy of her touch?

_Is it because you want power? When you learned my name, you said, __**good**__. You were ambitious, I was the apologizer. Together, we were to make all who dared to stand in our way prostrate themselves in regret for their folly. Is that why; do you miss being proud, Izuru?_

Yes, he was starting to think. There was a time when these words wouldn't have cut so deeply -- when he could've taken them and listened to their wisdom without feeling like they made him a failure. There had even been a time when Wabisuke wouldn't have needed to speak them in the first place.

The Izuru who had been happy and proud would have laughed at Abarai-kun when he became a captain, laughed and professed jealousy but congratulated him with a whole heart instead of feeling humbled and resentful. That Izuru would have admired Hinamori-kun for her strength and resilience, the same things that had made him love her from the beginning, instead of envying her, feeling guilty for even wishing she would settle for him.

Of course he wanted to be that person again -- would have given anything to feel confident again. But it was ridiculous to wish he could just erase everything that had happened in the decades since then. He had changed too much to go back.

"No," he said numbly. "That isn't why either."

Wabisuke murmured, _I know. You want to learn bankai because you're afraid. Now that everyone you went to school with has advanced and left you behind, because you are unable to go any further... you're afraid of being abandoned. Isn't that so?_

Izuru squeezed his eyes tightly shut; it was like a dagger to hear it when he'd been avoiding thinking it for so long.

_...Pathetic, Izuru,_ Wabisuke said, but softly, as if it hurt him to say it as much as it hurt to hear it. _Fear can't empower you. You should know that much from Ichimaru. It can only undermine what you strive for. Isn't that the first thing they taught you at the academy?_

He remembered. Bent, aged instructors striding across tatami, preaching that you do not fight out of fear, because as long as you fear, you don't take chances. If you fear being hurt, then you will never take advantage of an opening; if you fear falling in battle, you will never risk everything to claim a victory when the odds are against you.

If he feared facing himself, his own demons, then he could never achieve bankai.

If he feared being abandoned, then he could never say anything that would expose his vulnerabilities.

Wabisuke said softly, _What should you have asked that girl, Izuru?_

"How did you do it?" Izuru asked no one, his voice strangled in his throat. There were tear tracks down his face, left from tears he hadn't even felt fall. "How did you move on?"

No one answered him, but as Wabisuke sat beside him, the whispering in the wind slowly faded away.


End file.
